Weekend Reviews : Theater : ‘Lost Christmas Festival’: ‘Tis the Season to be Lonely

A cloud of cigarette smoke hangs over the stage during “The Lost Christmas Festival III: Permanently Lost,” the third annual festival of one-acts at the Lost Studio. It’s no coincidence that a lot of the people in these plays smoke. The future risk of cancer is not a big concern with the denizens of these bleak dramas, most of whose characters are preoccupied with the formidable task of getting through the next day.

When that day happens to be Christmas, the lost and the lonely can be crushed by the juggernaut of holiday cheer, as these plays amply demonstrate. Many of the pieces have specific Christmas themes, but don’t expect an atmosphere of jollity and good will. On the contrary, the relentless downbeat tone could precipitate a prolonged seasonal depression for the impressionable playgoer.

These are character-driven, determinedly avant-garde works that tend to be heavy on absurdism and light on plot. The most notable exception is Murray Mednick’s “Baby, Jesus!” in which two mischievous young girls call up pathetically eager prospective mothers on an adoption hotline pretending to be pregnant teen-agers considering adoption for their babies.

Under Guy Zimmerman’s crisp direction, Roxanne Rogers and Dawn Howard both appall and amuse as the youthful pranksters, and a satisfying twist wraps up this macabre package. (Interestingly, this, the most successful play, is the only one not directed by its playwright.)

The curtain raiser, Mick Collins’ “I Gotta . . . Stella,” a slight, disjointed piece about an anguished young convict and his unfeeling father, goes by quickly, leaving little impression beyond a sense of vague unease.

Joseph Goodrich’s “Boxing Day,” about a lonely, volatile Cockney gangster, is more specifically menacing, thanks to a galvanic central performance by C. J. Saunders, who at one point makes love to a Christmas tree with complete conviction. However, Goodrich’s choice of Pamela Gordon to play the gangster’s failing father is one of the more bizarre touches in a frequently bizarre evening.

*

Bernard Goldberg’s “The Inn Amid Grove and Copses,” in which a homeless modern-day Mary and Joseph seek shelter at a Portland bed-and-breakfast, derivatively travesties Ionesco. Unfortunately, Goldberg’s limp direction kills the vestigial humor in his absurdist farce.

Ranting lunatics--or at the very least outright eccentrics--figure prominently in these dramas, and Wes Walker’s “Crazy Mary,” in which two women encounter a bloody madwoman, is no exception. Although his writing is sometimes pointlessly amorphous, Walker directs with a chilling precision that makes his meandering dialogue all the more creepy. Sharon Shayne is both elegant and ravaged as the fluttery schoolteacher Sofia, a combination of Jean Brodie and Blanche DuBois--with a little Bald Soprano thrown in.

The festival closes with “The Only True Santa,” John Steppling’s terse, elliptical drama about a cheap department store Santa gripped in an existential crisis. A grim view from society’s underbelly, this is vintage Steppling--save for the underlying drollness that suggests that Steppling is deliberately parodying his own style. Amid this glum atmosphere, the tongue-in-cheek is appreciated.

Ponderous scene changes by the Three Wise Men and Mary need to be sped up so that this “Lost Festival” arrives at its destination more quickly.

* “The Lost Christmas Festival III: Permanently Lost,” Lost Studio, 130 S. La Brea Ave. Tuesday-Friday, 8 p.m. Ends Friday. $10. (213) 933-6944. Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes.